Angels and Cannibals
by superwholockedrem
Summary: Late at night, Will Graham gets a call from his estranged cousins who are coming up to Maryland, but their reasons for coming up are not exactly what they seem... (On VERY long hiatus. SORRY!)
1. Late Night Conversations

I DEFINITELY don't own Hannibal, nor do I own Supernatural, and I don't think that's a bad thing...

* * *

Winston, the dog, sat next to Will on the bed, his head on the man's chest, trying to shoo away his owners nightmares. Wills head tossed feverishly on his pillow, his curls and shirt soaked in sweat. Winston whimpered at his master's distress, and the five other dogs staring worriedly at their pack leader. The man suddenly sat up with a small scream and the dogs pressed their noses against his exposed hand. He threw off his wet shirt and grabbed some towels from his bathroom to sleep on as a sheet when his phone rang. Will checked the time and raised an eyebrow and shook his head. He was almost 100 percent sure that telemarketers didn't call people at 3 AM.

The empath sighed and picked up his cell phone.

"Hello?" His voice was still rough and slurred with exhaustion.

"Willy! Howdy, cuz!" A gruff, cheery voice said loudly from the other end. Will nearly dropped the phone in shock. He hadn't heard that voice in decades.

"D-Dean?" He said, shakily.

"Who else would it be?" Will could practically hear Dean's smile through the phone line. "Sammy and I just thought we'd check up on our baby cousin after we finished up a job. How are you doing now-a-days?"

"I'm a special agent with the FBI, now. My abilities are helping to save lives again."

"That's awesome."

There was a silence that lasted a few seconds before Dean said, "We're still hunting. So much has happened with us. It'll take us forever to catch up."

"Wait... Catch up? Dean? What are you saying?"

"Well, I looked you up and it looks like you're still living in Maryland. We just finished a job. Maybe we could drive down and spend some time with you."

"Um. WHAT?" Will's voice shook as he began to tremble. To see Dean and Sam again would be great, but he didn't know his level of sanity, and it seemed to be slipping through his fingers extremely quickly. What would they think of him when they saw what he had become? "Can we talk about this later? It's 3 in the morning here."

"It's two here." He could hear the eyebrow being raised.

"I need sleep. Even if you don't. Do you guys EVER sleep?" Will heard a chuckle on the other end.

"Badly. Talk to you later, then?"

"Yeah." Will looked at his dogs, excitement forming a bubble in his chest.

"Good night, Will."

"You too, Dean."

"We miss seeing you."

"I miss you guys, too."

Will sat down on his bed and smiled at his phone. He couldn't believe that his cousin, who he hadn't seen in a decade, had finally decided to call.

But why Dean had called went unmentioned. Dean had picked up a trail.

* * *

Usually, after Sam went to bed, Dean would grab his bottle of whiskey and feel the alcohol warm his insides. He would lay in bed for hours, listening to his music on repeat until finally, he would pass out with exhaustion or from the drink. That night, when Sam went to get ready for bed, he heard Dean tapping away on his laptop. He growled in frustration and hoped that his older brother didn't freeze the computer on a disgusting porn site again. The research that was done on the computer was how they got most of their jobs. As he washed up in the shower, he heard Dean talking to someone on the phone. When he got out of the shower and scrambled into his pajamas, he pressed his ear against the wall and listened. It was obviously an important conversation, or his big brother would have noticed how long it was taking him to get out of the bathroom. He snuck out of the bathroom and listened right outside of Dean's door.

"Good night, Will." Dean said. Will? Like their baby cousin that they met a really long time ago? Why would Dean be calling Will, now? "We miss seeing you."

Sam walked into his room after hearing his brother hang up the phone.

"Dean, what are you doing?" He scratched the back of his head and yawned.

"I couldn't sleep." Dean looked at his younger brother, his eyes glazed with sleep.

"I just heard you putting down the phone. Who were you talking to?"

Dean sighed and stood up from his bed. "I was talking to our cousin, Will. Remember him?" He looked at Sam, ready to defend himself against the argument that he knew his baby brother was trying to piece together.

Sam's eyes lit up and widened slightly. "Yeah. Of course. But last time we saw him, it was, like, 10 years ago. It's not possible that Will would remember us. He's grown up without us, and he has had a hard enough time living his life on his own. We really shouldn't interfere with his life. The chance of people living long, full lives after we visit them goes from about 80 percent of the time down to about 20 , he wasn't brought up in the life like we were. He was brought up as a normal child, and he only found out about us when we had to kill someone in front of him."

"So?" Dean crossed his arms. "We explained that their neighbor was no longer their neighbor and was a demon. We got them to believe us. Hell, they even let us use their basement as an interrogation room!"

Sam shook his head and put his hands on his hips. "We bring REALLY bad luck to everyone around us. And demons. And angels. And all the other monsters that come out from under their beds! Plus, he wasn't brought up in the life like we were. He was brought up as a normal child, and he only found out about us when we had to kill someone in front of him."

"I know, but he knows how to protect himself from them. And he remembers us. He knows us. I asked him." Dean looked at his brother again. "Go back to sleep. We'll leave as soon as you're up. I'm gonna take a shower." Sam nodded, slightly frustrated with him playing the 'older brother' card, and went back to his room, Dean to go and get ready for bed.

* * *

Hey! This is my first fic that I have published, so critiques are always welcome. Please tell me if I should post more of the story, and I'll try to do it within a few days.  
I hope you liked it!  
REM


	2. Blocked

I don't own Hannibal or Supernatural, but I wish I had that kind of smarts.

* * *

Then next day, Will woke up and found that he was not in bed. He had sleepwalked to his kitchen. Luckily, he thought to himself, he wasn't out of the house. His dogs surrounded him, whimpering and rubbing against his legs. He sighed and grinned, slightly, at the gentleness of his dogs and went back into his bedroom after petting each one for a good amount of time.

Just as he finished getting dressed, he realized that his cell phone was ringing. When he saw it was Jack, he picked it up as quickly as he could.

"What is it?" He mumbled into his phone.

"We've got a case."

Will arrived on the scene and surveyed the damage.

Jack walked up to him and handed him gloves and booties. "This is nothing like I have ever seen in person, although they have been happening everywhere else in the US. As you can see, it's practically in your back yard." Jack nodded over to his house, which was just up the hill from where he was standing. He nodded, then knelt down next to the figure. It had wing scorch marks in the ground, extending from the figure that was sprawled out on the grass. Hannibal arrived in his expensive-looking car and walked up to where Will was observing the crime before he leapt into the killers head and rustled around in their feelings and intentions. He called the other mans name and almost smiled when the empath jumped about an inch off of the ground.

"Don't DO that!" Will growled through his teeth.

"I apologize, Will. It will not happen again." Hannibal smiled slyly at his "friend" and sighed. "What do you see?"

Will took off his glasses, looked down, and swallowed, his brow, furrowed in concentration. "This was a quick job. An obviously easy stabbing, and the target didn't cause any commotion. The wings are a completely different story. I don't understand why the murderer took the time to make these...things." He gestured toward the dark marks. "Jack! Now, would be nice."

Jack nodded. "Alright!" He called to his team, "Everybody, OUT!"

The scene was cleared in under a minute and the two men were left alone with the body. Will closed his eyes and breathed, the unnecessary things disappearing from the scene and the body came alive, staring with his back to the killer. Instead of seeing the killing through the killers eyes, the scene in front of him was like a 3D picture. Time was frozen. When he tried to push passed this freeze frame, a burning sensation built up at the base of his skull. He pulled back in shock, but when he regained his wits, he pushed harder on the wall that blocked him from seeing the crime, and the burning sensation started slightly stronger, which was now accompanied by a ringing sound that got louder and louder until Will felt like his ear drums would explode. Suddenly, bright white burst threw him harshly back to reality, where he stumbled back, away from the body, and clutched his eyes in pain.

Jack yelled his name in shock and Hannibal caught his patient right before he hit the ground. Will's hands cupped his face, afraid to place his palms too hard against his burning eyes. As the sensation got worse, he cried out in pain. Hannibal clutched his arms as he began to tremble and wilt. Will felt something wet roll down his cheeks and gather in the palm of his hands.

"Will." The therapist said with forced calmness in his voice. When Will didn't respond, he shook him slightly but firmly by his shoulders. "Will? WILL? Can you hear me?" Will could hear the slight panic in the older man's voice. The trembling man nodded and Hannibal nearly hugged him in happiness.

"Will, please take your hands off of your face. I need to see the damage." Will shook his head fiercely. "WILL." He heard exasperation in the other man's lilting accent. "If you don't take your hands off of your face, then I will have to give you to the paramedics. Would you rather go to the hospital, or go back home? I will help you back to your house if you allow me to help, but they will not."

Slowly, Will forced his hands away from his face. He saw that he was on his knees with Hannibal kneeling in front of him. His breaths came in short gasps but the burning sensation slowly went away. The ringing sound had gone away after he had been thrown from the past, but he still had no idea what could make that pitch. He looked down at his hands and saw a small pool of red in the palms of his hands. Hannibal forced open Will's eye with his thumbs, then the other eye, and nodded.

"What ever you experienced didn't leave you with much trauma after the event. You still may have small dizzy spells that last a few seconds, but I don't think that it will have permanent effects." Hannibal assured Will as he helped him get up and walk up to his house. "Do you have a back door?"

Will nodded and heard his dogs bark and howl when they saw their master being dragged up the hill, back to his home.

When the two men arrived at the door, Hannibal straightened his jacket and Will let the other man go. He nodded vaguely in his therapists' direction, unlocked the door, then walked in his house, inhaling deeply through his nose. Winston barked and the whimpering of the other dogs went silent. They pushed against Will with their bodies in an attempt to get his attention. He looked up and saw Winston sitting by one of his armchairs. Even from behind, he could see that someone was sprawled out in it and he hear soft snoring coming from the chair.

Suddenly, Will was wide awake. He slowly began to take his gun out of his holster slowly and raised it to where he estimated the mans head was and breathed in, deeply.

"HEY!" He yelled at the figure. But when he was about to spin the chair around, the man rolled from the seat and was on his feet, facing Will with a gun pointed at his head within a millisecond. They stood at a standstill, both men staring at each other, one with shock, the other with curiosity.

"W- Wait." Will lowered his gun. "Dean?"

* * *

So, here is the next chapter! I haven't edited it as much as the other one, but I hope that it's okay. I would say that I was sorry to leave you with this cliffy, but I'm not. I'm EVIL! MWAHAHAHAHAHAHA!  
Please stay with me, though! I may spice things up even more within the next two chapters.  
Thanks so much to BethBuck for the review and the others who followed and the others who just read! I LOVE YOU ALL!  
I may upload another chapter in about a week. I hope you guys can hold off until then!  
Do you like it? Is it good? How can I improve?  
Thanks for reading and see ya next time!  
REM


	3. Reunion

I don't own Supernatural or Hannibal.

* * *

_Then... _

_"HEY!" He yelled at the figure. But when he was about to spin the chair around, the man rolled from the seat and was on his feet, facing Will with a gun pointed at his head within a millisecond. They stood at a standstill, both men staring at each other, one with shock, the other with curiosity._

_"W- Wait." Will lowered his weapon. "Dean?"_

_Now..._

* * *

"Willy? Man you've grown!" The cousin lowered his hand gun and shook his head in amusement.

Dean grinned and shoved his gun back into the back of his pants. He held out his arms to ask Will if he wanted a hug, remembering his cousins' hatred for sudden sensory changes, but the boy threw himself into the older mans' arms and hugged him as hard as possible.

"I can't believe that you're really here!" Will's voice was muffled by Dean's shirt as he put his head in his cousins' shoulder.

"Yeah. I can't believe it, either, buddy." Dean smiled at the boys open affection. Will was just as he had remembered; a scrawny boy who looked up to his older cousins. He ruffled his cousins curly hair and sniffed, trying to keep his cool. "Sorry about missing every birthday, but, hey, we bought you something to make up for that! It's not much but..."

The two cousins untangled from their hug and Dean walked out to the Impala, knocked on the passenger window, giggled, then grabbed something out of the back seat and slammed the car door behind him. As he walked inside, Sam opened his car door and walked out, looking sheepishly at Will. Winston appeared at Will's side and barked at the new arrival.

Suddenly, Will was pushed forward and out of the door by five furry bodies. his dogs had accidentally slid into him because of the hard wooden floor after running to their pack leaders, Winston and Will. As the dogs all bounded out of the house, the brothers jaws dropped. Dean was so surprised that he almost dropped the package that he was holding. It was wrapped in newspaper and tied tightly with a red ribbon that was tied in an attempted bow, but it looked sturdy enough so that if the hunter dropped it, it wouldn't break. Sam stopped dead in his tracks, but got over his shock quite quickly and began to play with the dogs. When the four dogs that were trying to get Dean's attention saw his brother petting the others, they ran over to him and left Dean where he stood. While Sam looked like the dogs could keep him occupied forever, Dean slowly made his way back to his younger cousin with shock still evident in his features. When he reached Will, the empath laughed at Dean's expression.

"What's with the dogs?" Dean demanded, his eyes still comically wide.

Will shrugged, "They understand me better then people do. I take in strays that I find on the road."

Dean's mouth opened and closed, then opened once more. He tried to find words, then squinted and looked down, changed his footing and tried again. "Sure. Why not? Okay. Dogs."

"Dogs." Will agreed.

Sam ran up to the porch and all six dogs ran with him. He stood next to Dean, panting, with his hands on his hips. "I didn't know you had dogs." His eyebrows knit together as he surveyed the dogs around him.

Will smiled at his cousin. "Yeah," he sighed and knelt down to pet Winston, who had ran up to him and sat by his side the minute that Sam began running back to the house. "There's a lot of things that we don't know about each other. Speaking of which," he glanced momentarily up at his younger cousin, his mouth still smiling but his eyebrows knit together in confusion, "what are you two doing out here?"

Dean looked at Sam, then smiled down at the empath. "Oh, you know," he said vaguely, a charming smile plastered on his lips, "We're just visiting. We haven't seen you in years and we just wanted to check up on you."

Will's face fell as he looked into Dean's eyes for the first time in years and said, "No. You're on a case."

The older brother shifted his feet, his filled with confusion. Had he betrayed them for a demon? He bent his knees slightly as he hunched down into a protective stance in front of Sam, the package from the car still in his hands. "How did you know that?"

"Guys." He rolled his eyes and sighed. "I'm an FBI agent. You two have been declared dead at least twice and on the Most Wanted list so many times that I lost count. Because you two have been on that list more than a few times, you probably have a lair somewhere up in Kansas, (I tracked your laptop, Sam), And are going there every time you are finished with a job. I know you guys stick to the small country towns because the risk of being caught in a big city goes way up when the neighbors see how many guns you have. I'm not as innocent as I was before. I'll ask you once more." He looked straight into Sam's eyes, "What's. The. Job?"

"Fine." Sam said before his brother could comment. "We'll tell you. Let's go inside, first. It's been a long day and a crazy lifetime since we last saw you.

The three boys walked quietly back into the small house, dogs trailing behind them.

"So... Recap. You're dad is dead. You guys actually did die multiple times. Demons are real. Angels are real. You guys are friends with an angel." He pointed at Dean. "You are Michael's vessel, and you," He pointed at Sam, "are Lucifer's vessel." Will stood up from his chair and began pacing. "Are you two serious?" The two brothers nodded whole-heartedly. "Oh god." Will ran into his kitchen and was almost sick in the sink. When he turned back to the door, Sam stood in the door frame and Dean had a towel in one hand and a glass of soda in the other. He handed them both to Will and smiled, tiredly, at the poor man.

"Usually, people think we're insane when we tell them. If they do believe us on the first try, then people usually throw panic attacks or run to go get a gun at the nearest shop. Your reaction is not the worst we've had to face."

"Hey!" Sam looked at Dean, "This is actually what Dean does every other morning, so he can help you out with that kind of stuff." The taller brother grinned at his older brother's face, which could be described in one word: Oops.

"So," Will wiped his face with the cool towel, "What's the case?"

"Someone has been killing off angels." Dean's face became serious and he sat down at Will's kitchen table, "We think that it might be another angel, but we're not sure."

Will looked down at his hands, which were still bloodstained from that morning (which felt so long ago) and asked, "Can angels burn your eyes out?"

Dean nodded and Will's eyebrows scrunched together with worry. "Have you seen that happen anywhere around here any time recently?" Dean's voice was coated with concern. The young man nodded and looked up at his older cousin. For the first time, the brothers noted the tear stains on his cheeks were blood red and he showed them the palms of his hands.

"I tried to get inside of it's head. I've taught myself how to link up with the killer's emotions and feelings to see the deaths from their perspective. When I tried to look inside of this one's thoughts, I heard a loud ringing sound and pure light. It wasn't like a light bulb light. It was like the-thing-that-invented-light-itself light. It almost burned into my eyes."

"What was the case that you were working on?" Sam sat down next to Dean.

"Well, it was actually on my property, down the hill. It was a simple stabbing, but a complex presentation. Wings were burnt onto the grass as if the angel was trying to make another one."

Dean sighed tiredly and said, "That's what happens when angels die. Their wings burn into the things beneath them. Did the victim have a long, sandy colored trench coat and a buttoned down shirt?"

Will shook his head. "No. Look, guys. I'm really tired. It's getting late. Today, I learned that the bible stories talk about real things and events that actually took place, demons can take your soul with just a peck on the lips, angels are worse than demons, I almost was killed by an angel, and you two are still alive and kicking. My brain is overloading. I need sleep."

The two Winchester's looked at each other and nodded. "Okie dokie!" Dean smiled at his cousin as Will trudged up the stairs, "See you tomorrow!"

Will grunted and slammed his bedroom door.

Looking down, Dean realized that he hadn't given Will his present. He got up to bring it to him, but Sam grabbed Deans arm and shook his head.

"Tomorrow." He promised. Dean looked up the stairs and nodded.

"Tomorrow."

* * *

Hey guys! Sorry for the really long wait. I've been completely over booked and swamped with homework, which reminds me... I should probably go back to it, soon. I typed this up in about an hour and haven't had much time to look over it, so I'm sorry if there are mistakes. I promise I'll fix them if you put them in a review.  
Please tell me what you think of it! Is it good? Is it crap? Should I stop? Should I keep going? Do you like it? Is anyone actually reading this?  
Thanks for reading,  
REM


	4. Sorry!

Hello my dear readers! I'm sorry for the lack of updates. I have been testing my skills and trying to write an original story, so my updates will be MUCH less frequent then they have been in the past. Homework has been stacking up and I really need to do my school work. Maybe I'll be able to post a chapter in a week, but just know that I am trying my best to cope with everything.

Sorry again!  
REM


	5. Angels

I don't own Hannibal or Supernatural. I wish I did... *stares off longingly into the distance*

* * *

It was four in the morning when Dean woke up, gasping. He sat up on the couch, confused about where he was for a moment.

"SAMMY?" he yelled, panicking until he heard the familiar, heavy, clumsy footfalls of his kid brother.

"Dean?" Sam ran into the living room where Dean had slept with a box of salt and was surprised to not see any threats in immediate sight. "Dean, what's wrong? Why...?"

"Dean?" Will ran down the stairs and breathed a sigh of relief when he saw that there was no imminent danger. He tried to walk into the living room, but tripped on his dog, Harry, who jumped up and whimpered in surprise. The fuss woke up Jerry and Winston, who both looked out the window and began barking. The house was suddenly filled with a chorus of howling and barking as the dogs all ran to the window.

"HEY!" Will barked, rather like the dogs, himself. The dogs stopped barking and sat down, licking their lips and whimpering slightly and scraping the floor with their nails and looking over their shoulders at their master as if warning Will. The three men walked to the window, Will lingering behind the brothers for protection. His lawn suddenly was lit up by a white light and standing in the center was a figure. It was so bright that all three men threw up their eyes and had to blink several times before they could see again.

Dean went pale and Sam's eyes became as large as saucers. They looked at each other, then backed up from the window and Dean grabbed a knife from his bag, which was right by the sofa. By the time he had called Cas, the light disappeared just as suddenly as it had appeared and the brothers breathed a sigh of relief until they remembered there was a third person in the room. Slowly, they turned towards Will and what they saw was something that would haunt them for the rest of their lives.

Will was as pale as a sheet of paper. The only color that remained was the red around his eyes and the pitch black of his pupils. Beads of sweat ran down his chin and neck, his breath hitching as he began to tremble.

"I-I-I've seen that b-before." he stuttered, "Wha-What is that thing?"

"It's an angel."

Will screamed when a man in a trench coat with startling blue eyes and messy black hair appeared next to him and he fell backwards into the wall, crumpling into a small ball and whimpering like one of his dogs.

Dean slammed his fist into the wall. "DAMNIT, CAS!" He yelled as Sam went to reassure their unstable cousin, "What have I told you about the creepy teleporting?!"

"I'm... sorry Dean. I did not mean to scare him." Cas looked down, ashamed.

"That's.. an angel?" Will's shaky finger pointed at Cas. The angel looked down at himself and sighed.

"Yes. Of course I am. Am I correct to assume that your species has not created an accurate molecular transported device, yet?"

Dean nodded and rolled his eyes. "Well, you very nearly gave someone close to me a heart attack so you might want to apologize before I do something I might regret." He lifted the angel blade and raised his eyebrows, no left-over hints of amusement coating his features. Castiel looked to Will and a look of sympathy replaced his annoyed gaze. The man was curled up next to Sam, who was muttering soft reassurances to him and helping him breathe into a paper bag. His eyes were wide and fixed on the man in the trench coat. Cas looked at him and saw his future and the pain and suffering that he would both have to face and cause to others. He saw mind games and mazes, institutions and woods, dinners and therapy sessions. The one thing that surprised him was the man who had made him like this was the closest thing anyone can get to a Wendigo without actually looking like one. He slipped into the other man's head and saw his love for the art of cooking and his hate for the rude. The other man, Hannibal, was an expert at killing and knew how to not get caught. From that moment on, Cas knew that Hannibal would be the one to ruin Will's life. In fact, he had already started.

"Cas, are you going to say anything or just dramatically stare into his eyes?" Sam's voice threw him from Will's mind and he knelt down. Several of the cousins' dogs had come into the kitchen and sniffed at the new man in the house and their fallen master, who was now uncurled and sitting next to Sam, his breathing back to normal and his back up against the wall, staring at the angel with intrigue.

"I apologize for my intrusion, William Graham." The angel wanted to fix Will so badly that he physically had to stand back up and turn away from the empath to resist the urge. "I... must be going. Good luck, William. You're going to need it."

"Wait, Cas!" Dean tried to grab his sleeve right before his friend disappeared, but he ended up swiping air. He ran his hand through his hair and yelled, "Son of a BITCH!"

"So, Will," Sam flipped through the FBI file, glancing up at his cousin a few times in the process, "Dean and I have been tracking this thing for a while."

Dean sang a really loud Metallica song from the shower and Sam yelled at him to shut up. He responded with the normal, "Whatever," with equal parts annoyance and boredom.

Sam rolled his eyes and took out a map and laid it on the table. It was marked with little red dots in every location that the same kind of thing happened. The dots were making their way up the east coast and slightly bending. A purple prediction line continued on up the country to New York city. "This angel has been hitting large, big, popular cities and a few smaller ones. We had a feeling that it was going to the biggest and most well known one on the East Coast."

"New York." Will nodded and sighed, his eyes looking even more tired than usual. "Why is it attacking cities. What are in cities?"

"Well..." Sam sighed deeply.

"You... don't know." Sam nodded. "And I'm guessing that you don't even know what it's name is, do you?" Sam looked guiltily away from his cousin and Will raised his eyebrows and put his hands on his hips, blowing air heavily from his mouth. "So you are pretty much flying blind here and you came here... Why?"

Dean chose this opportune moment to walk in to the room, a towel still wrapped around his waist. "What about flying? We're not flying somewhere, are we?" He looked at Sam uncertainly.

"No, it's just-"

"You guys are clueless about this case and you came to me. Guys, I tried to get out of the business. I really don't wanna have those nightmares that I heard you guy having last night."

"What?" Dean croaked, his eyes bulging out of his head.

"Both of you were screaming and when I went to check on one of you, the other would start fighting the blankets and neither of you two would stop. Finally, I made it so that one of you couldn't possibly hurt yourself, the the other would break free. When I finally got to sleep, Dean woke up and the rest is history."

"Don't pretend like you've been sleeping any better." Will stumbled back in surprise as Cas appeared two feet behind him.

"Cas, what do you mean?" Dean said, cautiously stepping in between his cousin and the angel. This conversation seemed like it could get dangerous very fast, and he know who would win (the non-human one) and he really didn't want the other one to get hurt.

"He doesn't get any sleep. He's too afraid. Every night he wakes up soaked in sweat somewhere other than his room."

"Stop it." Will was shaking in fury. Cas bowed his head towards him and Dean caught his right as he flew towards the angel. He spun his cousin around and held him by the scruff of his neck.

"Listen," Dean hissed at the furious man, "If you hit that big baby in a trench coat, you'll die. Literally. That dude punches you and you'll fly through the wall."

Will growled at his cousin and then looked angrily back to Cas. The man was sitting on the couch as the four dogs ran up to him. Winston, of course, ran to his master and sat next to him, checking on him and, after seeing Will's distress, whined and put his head on his human's leg. They sat down on the ground and Winston growled at the man on the couch. Cas stretched his arm out and pushed his arm down, making a shushing noise. The dog whined and looked down, suddenly unable to bark or make any noise louder than that small whine. The angel looked intensely at the other dogs and seemed to be telepathically communicating with them. They all sat down at exactly the same time and looked up at Cas as if expecting a command. Castiel stood up and looked at the Winchester brothers.

"That angel has been here before."

"What? How do you know?" Will got up, angrily glaring at the man in the trench coat. Cas looked at him with an almost hurt expression on his face.

"Your dogs are very clever. They would give their lives for you. They warned me about this angel's other appearance a few nights ago. They chased him down the hill and he vanished from there. Luckily, Harry managed to rip a part of the man's shirt." He gestured towards Will. "You were obviously asleep."

"Wait, wait." Dean shifted his stance and then looked back at Cas. "Could you tell the dogs to show us where the man vanished from exactly?"

The angel nodded and petted the closest dog, staring intently into it's eyes. The dog's muscles relaxed and it sat down with a small bark. It began rubbing its' paw across his eyes and barking in a seemingly patternless way. Castiel nodded and knelt down to its' level. It looked up at him and, to Will, Sam, and Dean's surprise, it nodded and went to the door, pawing at the bottom. Will opened the door and the five other dogs bolted after the dog in the lead.

"Ben wants us to follow him and the pack, but he wants the leader," he nodded at Will, "to stay behind. They say that the man could still be out there and he doesn't want his master to get hurt."

Will rolled his eyes. "I'm coming with you. This is ridiculous!" He shook his head frantically, in denial. "My dogs are NOT in charge of me."

Suddenly, the six dogs ran back to the house and sat down right in front of him. Winston growled at his master and Will backed up nervously. The way that the dogs were looking at him made the hair on the back of his neck stand up. They followed him into the house, following his every step with their heads, their big heads swiveling and their big almost black eyes boring into his head. Cas went in, sighing and shaking his head.

"They refuse to go if you follow after them." The man in the trench coat looked at Will intently. "Just stay here. We will report all of the information back to you. The dogs (Michael, Harry, Winston, Cory, Elton, and Elizabeth)," He pointed to each dog after saying their name, "will make sure we don't leave anything out."

"They can understand English?!" Will was starting to slightly panic.

"Of course. They follow commands, don't they?" Cas tilted his head slightly to the side when Will nodded. "They just have never had the ability to communicate with you. Now that you have a translator, they are very relieved." Cory barked. "Cory wants me to tell you that they would never betray your trust. Your secrets are safe with them."

Will nodded again, looking pale and slightly sick. "Well, I guess I'll have to say that I've seen weirder things, so..." he turned to his dogs, "thanks."

There was a chorus of barks and the dogs flew from the house, leaving a trail of flying papers, broken plates, and books in their wake until they managed to escape the house. They ran in an organized clump, making sure that they had trampled the grass and snow in a straight line for the humans to follow.

The ground was powdered with patches of snow, with the grass just peaking through. Rain had been frozen over night on the branches of the trees, making the clear ice look like glass christmas ornaments in November. The golden-brown tall grass went on for miles, only stopping for the small patches of woods that speckled the ground.

As the dogs sprinted through the trees and grass at an alarming rate, the men were pretty far behind, trying to slip on their gloves and hats and sprint at the same time. Dean was far in front of the rest, Sam was close behind, but the angel had somehow managed to keep up with the pack, staying right behind the last dog, but in front of the Winchester's. The dogs ran for about two miles, zigzagging and dashing through the trees with ease. When the brothers finally caught up to them, panting and gasping for breath, Cas looked as though he had just taken a small morning walk. He was straightening out his clothes and brushing off his jacket. He mumbled something and the dogs all sat down and looked at the boys.

"Show-off." Dean puffed into his brothers ear.

"I heard that." Cas's eyebrows were raised as he buttoned up his shirt sleeves. He looked around in intrigue and knelt down to pick something up. It was a shining river of smoke, a little bit like in the winter, when peoples breaths freeze, but this one was permanently opaque and solid enough so that he could pick it up without fear of it dissolving.

"This is angel Grace," he told the boys, "and it was ripped, forcefully, from its' owner. Sadly, this is just a tiny amount, not even enough to make much of a difference, but it might help me identify who the angel is." He put it into his pocket. "That's all we need. Let's go back, now that we have all that we need. Will will be anxious to hear what we have to say."

"Wait." Sam sniffed the air, his eyebrows scrunching up in confusion and disgust. "Do you smell that?"

The dogs ran over to a bush, just beside where the angel Grace had been. Dean peeked in and was instantly assaulted by the smell of a rotting corpse.

"Found a body. It looks about a week old."

"Oh, God. Another one. That's just great." Sam looked at his brother. "We've got work to do."

* * *

Hello.  
Oh. My. GOSH. I AM SO SORRY FOR LEAVING YOU FOR THIS LONG! I've been so busy and am right now about neck deep in homework that has to be done before tomorrow. Who else hates math? Any other math haters out there? We should have tee-shirts or something like that.  
Not only am I drowning in homework, but I forgot the plot of this story. I apologize for my idiocy.  
Anyway, I apologize for Will's OOCness, I just haven't watched Hannibal for a while and when I finally could, my site shut down. Summer is just around the corner, so I may update sooner than before (I hope I do). Again, I am so, positively, truly, undeniably sorry for the long wait. I hope this chapter makes up for the delay.  
PLEASE REVIEW. Reviews are love and inspire me to write my story!  
I hope you enjoyed this chapter and thank you SO much for reading!  
REM


	6. Confusion

I don't own Supernatural or Hannibal. Nor have I watched Hannibal for a LONG while, but rereading stuff about it has jogged my memory slightly, but please excuse Will's OOCness.

* * *

"God damnit!" Dean punched a chair with full force, rage fueling his burst of strength and adrenaline. The cushioned chair's wooden frame cracked under the stress, making its back unstable.

"Calm down!" Sam put his hand on his brothers shoulder. "This won't help the case! Just sit back down, and-"

"I don't wanna sit back down. I wanna get out of this damn house and kill the son of a bitch who's been killin' people!" He kicked the wall and the plaster split, creating a gaping hole in the dark painted scene. "It's been five days, and we've got nothing. NOTHING!"

"Dean. Sam." Cas' voice was a welcome sound to hear. The brothers spun around and took in the sorry state he was in. Blood dripped from his face, several red cuts marking places where a ring had torn through his skin, and the surrounding skin was black and blue with bruises. His clothes were torn as if someone had taken a knife and shredded his shirt, even though the wounds underneath it shone a light glowing from within, indicating the healing of the cuts. "I know who the angel is."

With that shocking revelation, the angel fell to the ground, his eyes rolling up into his head as he passed out.

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"Hey, Sammy," Dean walked into the living room with Will's laptop in his hands. Sam looked up, blinking tiredness from his eyes as he looked up from his screen, "check this out. All of them had something to do with this church." Dean pointed at the picture of a Catholic Church on the large screen, pushing it on top of Sam's.

"Britney Walen was the daughter of one of the regular church goers, and so was Kathy Davis. Helen Josephes was friends with one of the priests sons. Ethan Meyord was-"

"Let me guess. A regular church goer." Sam shoved Wills computer back into Deans hands and typed as he spoke. "And Benton Towers was the son of one of the priests. But what about Jason Featon?"

Dean chuckled. "He was one of the church goers friends distant cousin who had come up just for the wedding, which was happening in the church. It was the first time any of them had ever met him. Shittiest way to meet your relatives: on a slab in a morgue with your eyes burned out."

Sam barked a laugh, closing his computer and setting it aside.

"We should get going. Hey," he paused for a second, his brows furrowing together, "do you know where our suits are?"

Dean nodded, walking into the kitchen, but calling over his shoulder, "In the trunk, on top of our bags."

Sam jogged out side, grabbed the suits, then went back in, carrying his brothers in his left hand. He tossed his brothers onto the sofa.

For a while, something seemed off. Sam took a showed, got dressed in his suit and tie, and shaved his face, but still something was wrong. He only realized what it was when he walked passed Will's room.

The first thing was that Will wasn't in his bed, which would explain why he hadn't come down when Dean had tried to kill his furniture. The second was that the dogs were gone as well. He figured that they were probably with their master. The third was a feeling; the panic that crept up from his chest and climbed into his throat, restricting his breathing. He stumbled down the stairs, forgetting about his shoes, and sprinted out the door, his brother following a few feet behind.

"Sammy!" He barked. "What are you doing?"

"WILL!" He yelled at the top of his lungs, the sound echoing deep within his chest.

* * *

"Will? Will, are you awake?"

Will sniffed, just barely conscious, and grabbed the other persons head. The other man looked at him with worry, still rubbing the blurriness from his eyes.

"Will, what are you-" Will began to squeeze the head with almost inhuman strength.

"Die, mother fucker." He growled as he attempted to smash his head into the wall. The man began to fight back and soon, they were locked in combat, each with equal talent, strength, agility. The stranger was able to throw Will off of him, wiping the blood from his eyes.

"Look at me, Will. Look at me. Who am I?" His feeble attempt to bring the mad man back to reality only seemed to anger him even more. With a roar, Will launched himself at the man once more.

"You know who you are!" He screamed as he kicked the man in the chest with surprising force, knocking the air from his lungs. "You're a monster!"

Suddenly, the emotions of worry, fear, and pain fled from the mans face. His attacks became more precise, more vicious. Soon, the man had him pinned to the ground. Dogs tore at his night shirt and attempted to drag him off of their master, but it was to no avail.

"Who am I?" He asked.

"A lying son of a bitch." Will said with a smile, his warm blood spilling onto the hard wood floor as he struggled, getting in another punch before the stranger was able to pin his arm down. The man punched him in the face and repeated the question.

"Who are you?"

"A hunter who has every intent on sending your ass back to purgatory."

"No. You're name."

"Dean Winchester."

"Who am I?"

"A..." The man saw a shift in Will's features. Soon, a pain-filled, sleep deprived expression replaced the one of bloodlust and pure fury. "Wh-What-"

"Who are you?"

"Will." He gasped, trying to calm his frantic, rasping breaths. "Will Graham."

"Who am I?"

Will blinked in confusion. "Hannibal Lector."

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"This is the first time you have ever attacked someone in your sleep." Hours after the battle, Will was still quite shaken. He sat in Hannibal's library where he saw his patients, a hot mug of tea resting on the side table next to the blood red chair.

He nodded, sniffing, taking up the mug and sipping the boiling liquid, feeling it burn his lips and tongue. His body ached and stung from his many cuts and bruises he had gained during the fight, and his normally curly hair was sticky with blood and sweat. His dogs were now standing outside of the house, waiting for their master to give them an order as the sun began to rise behind them.

"What do you remember?" Hannibal watched his patient carefully. Will just shrugged and looked out the window, still refusing to look the therapist in the eye.

"Nothing."

Hannibal hummed, marking something down on his pad. "If you're not going to tell me the truth, what's the point in even coming? Why did you try to kill me?"

"I thought..." He gulped, his eyebrows bunched together. "I thought you were...something. I don't remember. You weren't human."

"Hm." The short response lead to some more scratching on the note pad. Will rolled his eyes in annoyance. "I called your house and people where there. Do you remember letting them in?"

"Yes. It was yesterday morning."

"Who are they?"

"My cousins. Sam and Dean."

When he said the second name, the pencil paused briefly on the paper before moving along once more.

"What do they do for a living?" His eyes flashed upward, glancing at Will's face.

"I'm not exactly sure right now."

"Hm."

The ringing of the doorbell startled them both, causing Will to jump out of his chair, his hand where his gun would normally be, put it only grasped the empty air. Hannibal walked calmly out of the room, casting one glance and an "I'll be with you in a moment," behind his shoulder before quietly closing the door behind him.

A familiar voice rang out through the house, "Hey. Heard you found my cousin, so I bought some beer and a burger as a thank you."

"Well, if you can even call a burger from McDonalds a burger. Sadly, the burger didn't make the journey. Dean ate it half way through the ride- Dean! What the hell?"

Dean Winchester pushed the door to the library open, a very confused Hannibal and a frustrated Sam following close behind.

"Found him, Sammy!" Dean pointed at Will, a large, boastful smile stretching across his face before noticing the wounds peppering his face. "Wait. What the fuck happened to you?!"

* * *

_Heya guys! I know you probably want to kill me right now. After this long of a break, you'd expect me to have more than this, and I have to admit, so did I. Sadly, my schedule has been insane. I have so much work every night and I don't have enough time to rewatch Hannibal season one, let alone write about stuff._

_Plus, you can blame some of that on Hussie. I started reading homestuck and...well, you probably know how it goes. I also started listening to night vale. I'm becoming fully fandom. My transformation is almost complete. _

_I also just kinda lost my inspiration for this story. Until a few of you guys reminded me about it. You guys saved this story, by the way. Thanks!_

_I have one warning to leave you guys with. These updates will only be as long as this one, or shorter. I will probably wrap this story up in about three or four chapters. Hopefully you won't have to be as insanely patient with me as you had to be for this one for the rest of it._

_Thank you so much for the reviews! Sadly, I can't respond to them now because my computer keeps glitching, but I'll do it later! Promise!_

_I owe it all to you, readers! Thank you so much for reading!_

_Love you all!_

_REM_

* * *

**OH MY GOD.** _I AM SO SORRY. So, I got a message from one of you guys, mysocaledname, which inspired me to try writing again. I'm going to try to go into this even though I haven't watched Hannibal forEVER. So, content will probably up within a week. I'm going to REALLY try to put my nose to the grindstone and WRITE.  
_

_Thank you SO MUCH for everyone who has been waiting for a long time for this to happen. I'll see you all in the next chapter!_

_REM_


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